


Boys don\\'t cry

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-18
Updated: 2007-08-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 10:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12408984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: "Boys do not cry Sirius. They leave those things to women! Remember that son, never be weak. To cry is to be weak."





	Boys don\\'t cry

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Disclaimer: Everything's Jk's, the song Boys Don't Cry is from The Cure and this story is for Math.

[Boys Don't Cry]  
Part I

His ceiling wasn't even white; more like crème. For the past three hours he had been in a complete contemplation of every single millimetre of ceiling he had. His teeth were strongly thrust into his lower lip and he could taste his blood in his mouth. He harboured a nasty bruise on his right cheek and the left part of his jaw had a purple hue.

His fists unclasped themselves rhythmically as he was trying to control the war that was raging inside of him. His eyes were clouded, his usually perfect locks all messy, he felt numb; he felt bad; he felt alone. He _was_ alone.

His dark good looks suddenly vanished around his aura of sadness and of vulnerability. The infamous Sirius Black was suddenly a little boy left alone in the dark; he had lost all of his coolness, of his cheek. He was tense. 

His green sheets were cold against his firm body; he was suffocating alone in his bed with green sheets and his white ceiling that wasn't even white. He felt like choking to death in that joke that he called his life. He felt like letting it all go, staying fucked up till what felt like forever just to forget. Forget the pain, forget the yells, the insults, forget the curses, the bad words, forget the bruises, forget the tears that he couldn't let come out. Just forget.

If he could he would have _Obliviated_ it all. But he couldn't. First of all, he couldn't do magic outside the school and secondly, he wouldn't want to forget _everything_. He wouldn't want to forget James.

x

His head was safely resting against the cool window, the weather was at it's English best; clouds and rain. Everything was grey, grey and clingy. 

Clingy just like Samantha, Zoë, Charlotte, Sophie, Lucy, Sarah, Rachel…

Clingy.

The road was long and he felt like sleeping, like putting his head on a warm pillow and crying his heart out. He felt like taking that old lady in the corner with that yellow scarf on and hugging her; crying in the crook of her shoulder. He felt like asking that blonde girl at the bus stop if he could kiss her, just to feel the salty tears on his tongue. 

He felt like crying in the rain so no one would know. No one would see.

x

He stood in front of the door, his bag sliding from his shoulder; he stood still in complete awe before the magnificent estate. _Godric's Hallow_ , the Potters' house.

He moved forward a bit and then stopped. Could he do it? Would they say something? Would they take him by charity? _Would they love him?_

He needed his friend right now, more than he had needed anyone in his whole life. He needed him, he needed James.

x

They stared at each other right in the eyes, both waiting for the other to move, for the other to talk. The taller one was glancing at his best friend, at the weird position of his shoulders, at his brown hair that had lost all of his shine. He looked at his friend like one would look at his brother, worrying over the living corpse before him. It looked just as if he had lived the last couple of weeks eating melon and nothing else. He looked like that skinny Muggle, the one that played bass for the Sex Pistols. What had happened to Sirius, to the joyful Padfoot, what had happened to his friend? Where the _hell_ was his brother?

He looked up and their eyes met again, a smile found his way on the face of his best friend.

"Do we hug?'

"…No," they laughed silently together at their awkwardness.

"Come on, what are you doing standing outside in that kind of weather? Come on inside."

Just like that, everything seemed better; everything was the same actually but just for a moment the allusion was there, like his life had start again from nothing, for something new. For something _better_.

x

His Adam's apple went up and down as he swallowed a throaty moan; he felt the curves, the flesh, the breath, the contact of the skin against skin. He felt chilly, his hands cut into the blond hair, tasting the feeling of the lips on his neck, the tantalizing lips teasing him, going on his jaw, nibble his ear, the dammed friction, the kisses and the cries. His members flexed, he felt like screaming, he felt alive. He **was** alive.

He felt loved, he was mystified. What a great feeling. He felt like sleeping with that feeling for ever he felt like being loved, he felt like loving.

Would he ever love? Love, love with a capital L, like what James and Lily had. 

Love.

One day maybe his turn would come, surely one day. He was young after all, he had all the time till he'd be old and he'd have grey hair.

He had to shave, he had to prepare for Transfiguration, and he had to find love. 

Love

x

"James..?" Lily glanced in the boys dormitories. Not a sound. Potter didn't seem to be there.

There was a kind of muffled noise in the right corner of the room; she saw a shadow behind the white curtains of one of the four beds in the room.

Lily entered lightly staring at the hidden person. Who was it? Remus? Peter? It couldn't be Black. The boy was far to cold to do something like cry.

There was now a whining,

"Remus?" No answer,

"Peter?" still not a sound,

"Black?" The shadow stopped moving.

"Sirius?" Unbelievable, Black, the Great Sirius Black was crying alone in the dark. How very un-Sirius Black- like.

"Sirius, are you alright?"

"Go away, Evans!"

"You're sure, you don't need anything? I could, if you want, call James he-"

"Evans, _please_ …just leave me alone."

"Okay if that's what you want, 'Night Black."

"Thank you… _Lily_."

While shutting the door, a seventeen-year-old Lily Evans realized that after all maybe Sirius Black was human after all.

x

He kept telling himself that he couldn’t; he couldn't and he wouldn't.

His father had made him learn one thing in life, one true thing at least. He had told him to remember that a man should never, never show his vulnerability.

"Boys do not cry, Sirius. They leave those things to women! Remember that son, never be weak. To cry is to **be** weak."

He was _not_ weak. He was a Gryffindor for Godric's sake. He wasn't, he wasn't…

The tears came and came and then the sobs and after all, he thought, maybe he was, maybe he was weak. Or at least for tonight he'd be, and never again.

Just for one night

x


End file.
